


Homecoming

by thestarsjustblinkforus



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, The Wrath of Con flashback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 01:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19121818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsjustblinkforus/pseuds/thestarsjustblinkforus
Summary: You rub sand into his hair, breathless from running and laughing and the champagne you’ve drunk is swirling around in your head making you feel light and fizzy and giggly and really, Logan could toss you off him any time he wants but you’re pretending otherwise and so is he.





	Homecoming

He dumps a handful of sand down the back of your dress and you stand there for a moment sputtering as he takes off at a dead run, Lilly and Duncan cracking up at the look of stunned outrage on your face.  
  
And then you’re sprinting after him, the skirt of your Homecoming Dance dress in your hands, hitched up over your knees. You’re laughing as Lilly yells after you, “Kick his ass, Mars!” and then all you can hear is the surf crashing against the beach, your bare feet slapping against the wet sand, your breath panting and catching between giggles.  
  
He’s way ahead, loping easily and backwards now, mockingly giving you a two-handed _come and get it._  
  
Running has shifted the sand into your underwear, and you shout, “You are so dead, Echolls!” but you’re not even close to catching up and he knows it, the smirky bastard…  
  
He slows to a jog and then stops altogether making a big show of looking at his nonexistent watch and yawning theatrically, one hand patting his open mouth.  
  
So you don’t slow down.   
  
Because that? That right there? That is him asking for it.  
  
The satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen fractionally before you barrel into him makes the bruises you’re going to get more than worth it.   
  
He  _oomph’s_ as you knock him over, the two of you tumbling to the ground in a tangle of arms his long legs your pink poofy skirt. You hear something rip, he knees your thigh hard, but you laugh triumphantly once you’re satisfied you have him pinned and sit up on his waist, your hands shackled around his wrists and over his head as he groans in mock agony.   
  
You rub sand into his hair, breathless from running and laughing and the champagne you’ve drunk is swirling around in your head making you feel light and fizzy and giggly and really, Logan could toss you off him any time he wants but you’re pretending otherwise and so is he.   
  
He “struggles” for a moment longer before giving up entirely and letting you do what you want with a roll of his eyes and a sigh of exaggerated patience.  
  
That’s when you start adding handfuls down his tuxedo shirt.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Say it!”  
  
“Nuh uh.”  
  
“Say it!”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“I’ve got a whole beach here, Echolls.”  
  
He laughs - giggles actually - trying to slap your hands away, and you easily get another fistful under his collar before he slurs, “Okay, ‘kay! V’ronica Mars is not a cream puff…”  
  
You nod, smack his lumpy shirt with a smile, satisfied.  
  
“Just so we’re clear, bucko.”  
  
He sits up suddenly and grins and you can almost hear all of the sand you’ve shoved under his shirt rush down from his chest to his belly, giving him a gut that’s not there at all. You poke at it, and he jerks back with a snort then forward digging his fingers into your sides and you yelp, automatically curling your back, and then you are eye to eye, nose to nose and after a moment of staying that way, of not moving, his grin fades, flickers into an uncertain smile.   
  
Sand is still trickling down your back into your underwear and you try to stop yourself from squirming because you’re still on his lap, your butt on his upper thighs, but you do it anyway because it tickles and you can’t help it and his hands reflexively tighten on either side of your waist to keep you from moving.  
  
He catches his breath. Or maybe you do.  
  
You feel a little dizzy and maybe not so in love with champagne anymore because you’re looking at his mouth now and wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Your eyes flicker up to his eyes and he's looking at your mouth too and then there's another quick intake of breath that might be yours or maybe his.  
  
Lilly runs up and throws herself on top of you giggling and howling at the moon and you fall forward onto Logan who rolls his eyes again, laughing again, and you feel his breath on your lips for an instant before you bury your face in his neck because there is nowhere else for you to go as Lilly leans over your shoulder and kisses her boyfriend hard.  
  
You feel his heart beating against your chest, his arms around you as he holds Lilly to you both and you’re laughing now too, warm and happy, and, if you admit it to yourself, a little bit turned on sandwiched between the two of them, Lilly’s breasts squashed against your back and your knees on either side of Logan’s hips.  
  
“Okay, this is so not something I need to see ever.” Duncan plops down beside you with your camera, fresh bottle in hand, and Lilly rolls off to reach for it as you sit up immediately swinging your leg over until you’re not on top of Logan anymore.   
  
You glance back at him over your shoulder as you wrestle your skirt free from his legs and he lies there not helping, his head cocked to the side looking up at you. You elbow him in the ribs and he smiles, scrunching his nose and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms before snapping into a sitting position himself and taking a turn with the bottle.  
  
You reach for Duncan’s hand and it’s there like you knew it would be.  
  
“Best. Homecoming. EVER.” Lilly crows and takes a swig as Logan hands the bottle back to her wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.   
  
Duncan brings yours to his lips, kisses your knuckles and laughs into your palm as you turn your wrist to touch his face.   
  
“Best Homecoming ever…” you murmur, smiling softly.  
  
“Not yet.”   
  
Logan flips open his cell with a flourish.   
  
He tells the driver where you are and you frown, “We’re not leaving yet are we?”   
  
He looks at you with a sideways smile, keeps his eyes on yours as he says to the driver, “Turn it up.”   
  
And after a moment you [hear](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ahU-x-4Gxw) it, the radio as high as it can go floating out of the darkness from the parking lot where the limo has pulled up to wait, and Lilly shouts,  _Yes!_ , kissing Logan roughly, curling her fingers into his shirt, before getting to her feet and dancing on the sand her dress glittering and sparkling in the moonlight.  
  
She holds her hands out to you and you take them, you dance together barefoot, the straps of your shoes swinging from your wrists as the boys watch and pass the champagne back and forth nudging each other and laughing.  
  
You smile at Lilly who flings herself into your arms and you spin and spin and you think this is one of those times you will remember forever - you and Lilly dancing to New Order crazy and tipsy and in love with your boyfriends. It will be a “remember when…” story and it never occurs to you that Lilly won’t be there someday to say,  _“Yeah, I do. It was fucking awesome.”_


End file.
